Chapter XXXI: A Promise

When he had put the racing fans on the Edgemere trolley, Pee-wee, like Jack ashore, betook himself into Bridgeboro to have his fling before returning to the ship. The habit of sailors home from long voyages is well known, and we need not be surprised to find him bending his steps toward Bennett's Fresh Confectionery, where he climbed onto one of the stools before the soda fountain.

He had just consumed a raspberry ice cream soda and was considering the question of whether he should have another when he noticed somebody which reminded him of the doom which awaited him on Monday morning. This was Miss Carlton who taught in the Bridgeboro Public School. She had just consummated the purchase of a box of candy and such were the cordial relations between herself and Pee-wee (out of school) that she proffered him the box for a choice of its contents.

"I don't know whether to take a chocolate one or a white one," Pee-wee said.

"Why not take both?" she suggested.

"I guess maybe that would be safest, hey?" he said.

"And what have you been doing all week?" Miss Carlton asked.

"I've been at sea," Pee-wee said; "I've been floating around on a desert island that's on a scow and this is the first day I came ashore. I started a new patrol and Keekie Joe is in it. He's in your class, isn't he?"

"He is--sometimes," said Miss Carlton ruefully.

"He goes on the hook a lot, doesn't he?" said Pee-wee.

"Oh, lots and lots," said Miss Carlton dubiously.

"But anyway, don't you care," said Pee-wee, "because now he's a scout and he'll go to school every day, because a scout's honor has to be trusted. Do you know what was in that white one? Kind of lemon like."

"Won't you have another?"

"Brown and white are our patrol colors," said Pee-wee. "We just started our new patrol."

"Take a brown one and a white one," said Miss Carlton.

"I bet you don't know the name of our new patrol. It's the Alligators."

"I think that's a good name for Joe McKinny," said Miss Carlton; "he's so slow coming to school."

"I can prove you're wrong about him," said Pee-wee, "because alligators don't go to school and----"

"Won't you have another, Walter?"

"One for good measure, hey?" said Pee-wee. "Anyway, how much do you want to bet he won't go to school now? Because he will, because scouts have to do what they're supposed to do and I bet you he'll----"

"Another, Walter?"

"I'll take a pink one this time. I bet you he'll go to school and be all right on account of starting to be a scout. I got some money for grandstand seats on our island to see the boat races and I'll treat you to a soda."

"Thank you," laughed Miss Carlton, "but I think not now."

Miss Carlton knew Pee-wee well enough (for he had been in her class) not to inquire particularly about his multifarious adventures. She knew that they were too numerous and complicated for casual recital. Nor had she any faith in the influence of scouting on Keekie Joe. She did not believe that any power in the world could tempt Keekie Joe to school on a Monday, because Keekie Joe's partiality to liberal week ends was well known to her.

"Well, I only hope it will do him some good,"; said Miss Carlton dubiously.

"You mean scouting? _Sure_ it will. You just wait and see. So long, maybe I'll see you on Monday."

"Won't you have one more?" the tempter urged.

Pee-wee hesitated. "I'll take a cocoanut one," he said, "because they're small. So long, I'll see you later."

Thus it was that when Pee-wee went back to the island, he did take something with him which was not named in the guessing of his friends. It was the heavy responsibility which he bore to make scouting good in the eyes of Miss Carlton. His promise, made at the altar of Bennett's candy counter and solemnized by a dozen assorted dainties, must be fulfilled.

He found his friends sprawling around their dying campfire on the island. Townsend was lying on his back as usual, his hands clasped behind his head, his eyes fixed on the quiet stars. Crowds thronged the main street of Bridgeboro on that Saturday night but the island lay peacefully against the shore of the wood skirting the river and the town might have been a hundred miles off for all the campers could tell.

"Well, we've had quite a week," said Townsend; "and now that we're started I hope we'll stick together and make a real, honest-to-goodness patrol. Joe is with us to the last ditch--out for the second rate badge----"

"You mean the second _class_ badge," Pee-wee thundered.

"Brownie is going to be steward or whatever you----"

"Don't talk about stew," said Billy.

"Pardon me, my fault," said Townsend, "only I'd like to rise to remark while I'm lying here that I think we're going to make a pretty nifty patrol. Joe wouldn't go in swimming on account of his mother; couldn't force him to it, so there you are."

"And he's going to school Monday," said Pee-wee; "because I met his teacher in the--the--eh--the store."

"Candy store?"

"How did you know?" Pee-wee gasped.

"Just an inspiration," said Townsend.

"And I told her he's going to school every single day after this," said Pee-wee. "So are you?" he demanded of Keekie Joe.

"Posilutely he is, if not more so," said Townsend. "Every day except Saturday. He's even willing to eat hunter's stew and a fellow that will do that doesn't mind school; he can stand anything. How about that, Joe?"

"I gotta do what you sez," said Joe.

"There you are," said Townsend. "What more do you want? We're _all_ going to school because the school won't come to us. So now let's tell riddles till we get tired of hearing each other talk and then we'll turn in. And we'll camp here all day to-morrow and to-morrow night, and the next day--school."

"I know a riddle," shouted Pee-wee. "Why is a stu----"

"Stop!" shouted Townsend.

"I was going to ask a riddle about a stu----"

A chorus of protest drowned his voice.

"A stu--" he roared, "debaker. It's a riddle about a Studebaker car!"

"Let's tell Ford stories!" shouted Brownie.

"I know a lot of them!" shouted Pee-wee.

"Why is this island like a Ford car?" Townsend asked.

"Why?"

"What's the answer?"

"Because there are a lot of nuts on it," said Townsend. "Why is Scout Harris like a Ford? Because he's small but makes a lot of noise. Horrible! Here's a better one. Why is----"

"I know one! I know one!" shouted Pee-wee.

"Let's see if we can catch some eels," said Townsend.